


now and always, or: how robb stark and theon greyjoy taught dean winchester and castiel a valuable life lesson

by janie_tangerine



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Supernatural
Genre: (sort of I mean they hold hands at some point), Charlie Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Episode: s09e03 I'm No Angel, Episode: s09e04 Slumber Party, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, M/M, Post-Episode: s09e03 I'm No Angel, Pre-Slash, Television Watching, What Was I Thinking?, also if you aren't caught up with GOT this probably won't ever make sense sorry again, or: where dean realized that his and cas's relationship is basically throbb gone less wrong, really sorry, sam will regret his life decisions when he reads a dance with dragons, that's it that's the fic, well she ships throbb mostly but she ships them through it so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 07:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>where Dean Winchester catches up on Game of Thrones, realizes that his relationship with Cas has too many things in common with Robb and Theon's for his liking and it's enough to make him actually want to talk shit out after the obligatory freak-out. Turns out it's not a bad life decision. (Spoilers for all of S9 and all of GOT.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	now and always, or: how robb stark and theon greyjoy taught dean winchester and castiel a valuable life lesson

**Author's Note:**

> Right. Uhm. SO. I have no fucking excuse whatsoever for this, but basically: I've been thinking that Robb/Theon and Dean/Cas as ships share a good 50% of the basic tropes they're based on since... er, two years or so, except that obviously D/C went a lot less wrong. Then in the latest episode Dean/Sam/Charlie actually *watched Game of Thrones* on screen and this stupid plot came into my head and it wouldn't leave me alone and so I denied my poor thesis in order to get it down. Aaand I don't even know I'll just post it before I have second thoughts. Bye. *saunters downwards and goes back to thesis*
> 
>  **SPOILER WARNINGS** : re GOT, this thing won't make sense whatsoever if you're not caught up with both SPN and GOT - also regarding GOT, there are seriously huge spoilers about the Great Main Event Of Season Three Which Shocked Everyone and spoilers for the entire thing anyway, so if you're not spoiled for it and actually want to watch GOT at some point you're probably better off skipping this. Also there are minor spoilers from Theon's storyline in ADWD - it's not exactly a plot point and it's stuff that is... well, sort of deducible from watching the show, but if you'd rather not know, then skip at will. Re SPN, there's... I suppose a slight character spoiler? There's a character in here who has to be introduced still and I went with it because I know the name and job description from the casting call, but I'm completely unspoiled about more than that so I have no clue of what she's actually going to do in the show, so this is all speculation.

So, maybe Dean should _not_ have watched fucking _Game of Thrones_ while… well, not exactly drunk. At that halfway point that goes beyond pleasurably buzzed but stops before really starting to lose it. Or, this is what he thinks when he puts two and two together. When he calls Charlie, though, she insists that it might have been the best idea he ever had, which _does not compute_ , but maybe he should just go back to the beginning and sort this shit out.

So, he had been watching season two. With Sam, who kept on muttering about changes from the books, and Dean had felt a certain satisfaction in staring him while hissing _no spoilers_. He had also started with the first beer at the first episode, and they had been marathoning, which means that by episode six he had been well and truly past buzzed.

Then again, he wasn’t drunk when he had started it, so he hadn’t particularly thought about the scene with Robb and Theon in the tent, even if to be really fucking honest he had thought that they were about to kiss or something – the heterosexuality in the air had dropped well below zero, and he had kind of felt like those idiotic Supernatural fangirls with their _shipping_ , so he just stopped thinking about it.

The first red herring had come a couple episodes later, when Dean had been, in fact, buzzed.

“I still can’t believe he picked that sorry excuse for a family over Robb,” Sam had said disapprovingly.

“Who, Theon?” Dean had answered.

“Who else? I mean, fucking poor life decision or what?”

Not that Dean had really paid much attention to Theon in the first place – he thinks his favorite character is Jaime Lannister anyway and the dude was always in the background, so it’s not like he actually cared. But he has paid attention to the plot.

“Sure, and so what, he goes back to his best friend there without an alliance and most probably disowned? When everyone but Robb hates his guts? Isn’t this entire society about your family being more important than anything else? ‘Course he’d stay behind. You always brag about this stuff being _realistic_ , looks to me like he’s taking the realistic choice.”

Sam’s eyes had gone wide for a moment but then he had shaken his head and said that he was going to see later why it was a fucking poor life decision.

Right. Dean couldn’t fault him there, but – he really couldn’t bring himself to hate the poor bastard. He sort of could see why he’d want to prove himself to his dad, hell, he’s been there himself, and fine, Theon’s digging his own grave, but it’s also obvious that the idiot is just not equipped to deal with it. And who would be – after the tenth time it’s pointed out that the guy spent half of his life with a shit family and the other half being a hostage and thinking he could die any day Dean gets it even too well. ‘Course he’s not playing with a full deck. There had been something nagging at him though. As if this entire story was somehow _familiar_ , but he couldn’t place exactly how. And it sucked that it had been nagging at him because it had been distracting him from the rest of the show.

When Robb had said, _I want to look at him in the eyes and ask him why before I take his head_ the sense of deja-vu had escalated to ridiculous extents, and Dean still couldn’t figure out how or why it felt like that. The weird thing had been that he had felt like he perfectly understood Robb’s point, which had also been ridiculous because while Robb Stark is cool, he really wasn’t on Dean’s favorite people radar either.

By the time they had finished season two, the situation had consisted in Sam fanboying Daenerys and Dean sort of trying to explain him that Theon really wasn’t as bad as that dick Joffrey.

Then they had the horrible idea of watching the first two episodes of season three before calling it a night.

While talking about his missing brothers, Robb was obviously still hoping that Theon might have done the right thing by him, looking halfway between hopeful and sad, and –

 _Oh shit_ , Dean had thought in that exact moment.

“Of course it felt fucking familiar,” he had said, and a moment later the scene had cut to Theon being tortured and –

“Stop that,” Dean had said, frantically, and Sam had done it, looking completely baffled.

“Dean? What –”

“I’ve felt like there was something familiar about those two since we fucking started this,” Dean had said. “And of course there fucking is!”

“… What? About Robb Stark? What are you even going on about?”

“That it’s – it’s like me and Cas!”

“ _What_?”

“Forget it. I have to call Charlie, you can finish it. I’ll catch up later.”

“But –”

Dean had been gone by then, taking off his cellphone and dialing Charlie as he closed the door to his room – Sam really didn’t have to listen to this conversation.

Then he remembers that she’s in fucking Oz, where there probably won’t be reception, and –

She picks up the phone at the fourth ring.

“Dean?” She sounds mildly surprised.

“You have reception in _Oz_?”

“Sounds like I have a good plan. And why are you sounding like _that_?”

“It’s just – we were watching _Game of Thrones_. Sam and me.”

“Made it past season one, I see.”

“Yeah, but – I just, I was watching it and some things felt familiar but it just wouldn’t make sense and then I realized that – shit, Charlie, I’m – it’s like, you know Cas?”

“Just from the books, and you should really introduce us at some point –”

“At which point did those stupid books get?”

“Er, avoiding the apocalypse? Dean, what the hell does this have to do with –”

“It’s – we’re like Robb and Theon! I mean, _he_ ’s like Theon. Sort of. I mean, I can’t even say he hasn’t been mental, too, but – like, he dropped out of the sky or something and I always took him for granted because we happened to have become friends or some shit and I never really understood how it was killing him to pick between us and his family, okay? And then I told you about him going all soul-eating crazy, right? I spent months wanting to ask him to his face why he ever did that to us, with it being just him and me – I mean, all the lying and the rest – and I hadn’t even realized that it was half my fucking fault like that idiot of a Stark didn’t realize that half of it was his, too.”

“Wait. I think I’m following you but – half his fault?”

“Oh come on, I wasn’t drunk when I watched season one! I’m pretty sure that if I had been Theon I wouldn’t have appreciated not getting any thanks after saving his brother’s life. And the whole _it’s not your house_ shit, of course the idiot didn’t feel sure about which side to pick, and Robb didn’t even realize it because he had _forgotten_ and I did the fucking same thing!”

“I’m… plenty impressed that you got all that without reading the books in the first place, but hasn’t this happened like years ago? Why are you all going crazy about it now?”

“Because I just fucking did it again when I told him he couldn’t stay here and he’d bring angels down on us! Which fine, it’s a fucking problem, but – I’m being Robb Stark at his worst all over again and now that I saw it I just – I don’t –”

“Dean. Dean, just get your shit together a moment, okay? Let’s not really go over the fact that you just said that you and your dreamy best friend forever are the same as two fictional characters who obviously had a thing going on, at least in the show –”

“What?”

“Oh come on, _am I your brother now and always_? _You don’t have to call me your grace_? Bite me, that’s tragic love at its finest. But other than that, you know that you should just pick up your phone and talk to Cas?”

“Yeah, as if he’d want to –”

“Dean. I have just one thing to say before I end this conversation and proceed to laugh myself silly as I walk down a yellow brick road, okay?”

“…. Okay?”

“Do you mind spoilers?”

“Nah, not really. Why?”

“Er. Uhm. So, Robb dies. Episode nine, season three. Just brace yourself and look at Sam because he probably won’t know and it’s going to be moderately hilarious to watch him freak out. By the way, don’t follow that example, okay?”

“Wait, he dies because he married the sexy nurse?”

“About that, I’d suggest you read the book, but anyway, not the point. What do you know about the other idiot?”

“Theon? That he’s getting tortured?”

“Yeah, well, that just gets worse, too. And do you know what’s the one thing he wishes he would have done, at the end of all things? Well, not exactly, but – you know when there’s the redefining moment in a character’s arc and all that jazz?”

“Yes?”

“He wishes he had died with Robb. Pretty gruesome death at that. If Cas and you have a thing like _that_ and your friend is anywhere like that, I’d really suggest you talk it out. Oh, and Dean? I can hear that you’re drunk, but maybe watching that show not sober might have been the best thing you ever did.”

Then she did, in fact, end the call.

Dean had gone back to the living room, where Sam had been waiting for him, and they had episode two and he hadn’t done anything.

He wasn’t going to. He couldn’t.

Then, since there was no case on the horizon, they had watched the rest of season three the next day.

Or better. They had tried to watch, because by the time episode four is over Dean feels like throwing up on his own shoes and had called it a day and fuck it, he shouldn’t have felt horrible the moment Theon said _how could someone like that be a brother to me_ because he knows that Cas still doesn’t get it the same way that stupid fuck on his television didn’t understand that fucking Robb Stark had taken it for granted that he’d know, the same way Dean had.

He also can hardly call Cas and tell him that he doesn’t have to be the Theon Greyjoy of the situation because he’s pretty sure that out of all the references that might go over Cas’s head, that one would go over his head at the height of Mount Everest.

But right. So there are some basic similarities. So what.

 _So what_ his ass, because those two ended up one dead and one tortured by a crazy psychopath, and all because they couldn’t fucking talk to each other, and maybe it would have all been better if they had pulled their heads out of their asses – Robb more, though – and just talked shit out, and Dean knows that he can’t push with Cas forever – at one point he’ll grow tired of his bullshit even if it seems like he has an endless reserve of patience. And fine, the whole betrayal thing has gone down already so at least _that_ isn’t the same, but – Dean can’t just stop thinking about it and at how he never realized how it felt like for Cas, not really.

 _Fuck this_ , he thinks, and gets himself a drink.

After the third shot of tequila, he’s back in between buzzed and not-royally-trashed, and he goes outside the bunker and calls the number of the cellphone he gave Cas before he left, hoping that Cas hadn’t thrown it away the moment he was far enough – not that Dean would blame him if he had. Fuck knows he’d have been pissed.

Well, the number is working, at least. Step number one successful.

It rings six times. Dean is about to call it a day, but –

“Dean.”

Shit. He answered. Step number two was successful as well. Cas doesn’t exactly sound happy to hear him, but it’s nothing Dean wouldn’t have imagined. Right. He has to actually say something before Cas slams the phone in his face.

“Cas. I – uh. I wanted to know how you were doing.”

“Excuse me?”

Right. Crappy line. Damn it, maybe he shouldn’t have drank that tequila after all.

“That, too, actually. Shit, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t want to – and I really feel horrible now, I’ve been since – _since_ , but I –”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, I’m not sober, but I couldn’t work up the guts to call otherwise. I mean, I was sure you wouldn’t even pick up.”

“I was tempted not to,” Cas says, and Dean wants to punch himself in the face and go back downstairs and tell Zeke that they should really call this off… except that he had him bring Charlie back, didn’t he? And he can’t leave now if Dean doesn’t want Sam to drop down dead.

“Also because you caught me… in the middle of things.”

“Of what?”

Cas sighs, and Dean can feel him relenting even if he can’t see him. “I haven’t gone too far, but enough that they shouldn’t be able to track you down. I’m – I found a job.”

“Really? What?”

“I man the check-out at a grocery store. It doesn’t pay too much, but – it’s not hard. And it came with a free room on the upper floor.”

“Oh. Well, that’s – that’s good, I guess?”

“My boss lives next door,” Cas keeps on. “And – she likes to watch television in the evenings. She has… invited me over a couple of times because she said that it didn’t look as if I had much better to do.”

“Oh. That was what you were doing now?”

“Yes. It’s… mildly interesting. She has cable. I have no idea of what it means but most of what she likes wasn’t on the channels you received in your motels.”

“So I called in the middle of things? What were you watching?”

“Yes, but she’ll catch me up on that later.” Cas sounds like he knows that Dean is desperately trying to keep up the small talk, but he’s not telling him to fuck off either, so. “We were watching… _Game of Thrones_ , I think? We’re almost done with the last season.”

Well, _shit_. “Uh. I’ve seen it a while ago.” He’s not going to tell Cas that he and Sam have been doing the same and Cas could have been here with them doing it instead of with his boss. “Do you like it?”

“It’s… peculiar, I suppose. My boss gets very passionate about it. And she also thinks that I have… crappy character taste?”

 _It can’t be_ , Dean thinks. “Wait. Let me guess. Your favorite character is Theon, right?”

“…. How did you guess that?”

Completely surprised is a lot better than polite but distant.

“Because – all right, just let me say this speech without hanging up on me, okay? It’s probably going to make sense. I hope.”

“Very well.”

Dean takes a breath. “Right. I kind of lied before – Sam and I have been watching that show, but it’s been mostly in the last week. Anyway, that’s not the problem. Like, he hates Theon too – maybe he should meet your boss – and I never really did – I had no clue why but I just couldn’t bring myself to for some reason. Then – then there was that episode where Robb couldn’t stop hoping that Theon might have sort of still been on his side for what it was worth and I realized – that was like the two of us, wasn’t it? I mean, I never _got_ it before, but – I’ve been a righteous idiot who always took you for granted because we were friends and it was going to be enough for everything while you couldn’t find a way to… to make do with your obligations to your family and the ones you had to us, and when you didn’t pick us I was so fucking angry and I couldn’t even see why you had taken a different direction. And – I always say that you’re like family but then I always let you down anyway and – maybe if I told you more times before it all went to shit or if I hadn’t taken you for granted the way I did – I’m sorry, okay? And right now I – I wish I could take everything back from the last time we spoke to each other but I can’t even if I want to and I just wish I could tell you to come back already and I can’t even – but I don’t want the two of us to end up like them, okay?”

Well, that probably didn’t make any fucking sense whatsoever, did it?

“Can you meet me in Phillipsburg in two hours?”

“What?”

“It’s where I am right now. We can meet at the bus station.”

“Oh. Okay. But –”

“I need to have this conversation face to face,” Cas cuts him short, and then the call is over.

Still better than he had thought, Dean thinks, and after telling Sam that he’s going to check on a few things, he drives very, very slowly towards Phillipsburg.

\--

Cas looks good, Dean thinks when he sees him in front of the station’s entrance. He’s wearing the same red hoodie he had on when he left – no, when Dean forced him to leave – but he looks as if he’s had a good two weeks of sleep and regular food, which – well, it looks good on him. Dean stops the car and Cas gets into the passenger seat, looking down at his hands for a moment before turning his eyes towards him. He’s keeping on a poker face, but he doesn’t look too angry.

“Do I drive somewhere more private?”

“Please,” Cas answers, and Dean drives until they’re out of town, in the middle of the highway. There’s a motel up ahead, but it’s pretty far. Dean parks on the side of the road and turns off the engine.

He doesn’t think he’s going to be the one to speak first, but after thirty seconds the silence feels downright horrid, and he’s about to say something probably very stupid when –

“Whenever I think I can stay angry at you, you never let me. That’s very unfair, Dean.”

“I – I do what?”

“I was very much intent on staying angry at you. Even though I understand why you did it, and it doesn’t surprise me because I’ve known your priorities since I – since the first time we met. I’m not even sure I can begrudge you for that. Still, I thought I could. Then you called, and I thought I would ignore it, but – I just couldn’t. And I surely was not expecting that speech.”

“I – uh, I don’t know how sense it made, but – I wasn’t bullshitting.”

“If you had been, it would have been a bit more coherent, wouldn’t it?”

Ouch. Well, he can’t exactly be angry at Cas if this is the most sarcasm he’s ever heard in his voice.

“Caught me.”

“But while it wasn’t what I would call coherent… you had to… nail it, didn’t you?”

“I did what?”

“Isn’t that how it’s said? Nailing it? Because I had been thinking the exact same things as you while watching that show. From the first time the situation was clear.” 

“Oh.” Dean feels very stupid right now.

“Not to mention that if you understood at once _why_ I had… weird character tastes, I can’t even tell myself that you don’t care as much as you make it seem.”

Ouch, again. “Cas, I’m terrible at this. And I realize that my actions are pretty much contradicting my words, but… I’m not… _making it seem_ like that. I really am not. I can’t ask you to trust me on the reasons why I’m doing this and – right. You don’t have to take my word on this, but… I’m in a situation.”

“All right. And?”

“I can’t – I can’t say anything until it’s over.”

“You do realize that you’re not helping yourself here?” Cas asks, but… it sounds almost fond rather than pissed off as Dean would have expected.

“I know. Fuck, I know, and you don’t even know how much I want to tell you. But if I do –”

“Sam is in danger, isn’t he?”

Dean nods almost gratefully.

“Dean, you know, I never wanted to put you in a position where you have to choose between the two of us.”

“For what it’s worth, if I had known what it truly meant, I’d have never wanted you in a position where you had to choose between your family and us. And it was obvious that _Theon_ would have been your favorite character. Might have been made of dicks, but your family’s still your family, right? And – it’s like, he picked them also because what he had on the other side was moderately good but not enough. And I’m – I know that I’m not giving you enough either. I’m fucking being Robb Stark at his worst and I don’t even have a fucking excuse, because he had no clue and I _do_. And shit, am I really saying all of this out loud?” The last question is more of a groan than anything, but it’s not like he has much dignity to spare. Not when he just used a stupid television show to describe his and Cas’s relationship, for fuck’s sake.

“You are,” Cas agrees a moment later. “And that summed the situation nicely, I think.”

“I doubt it’s worth anything though. I mean, I’m here talking but I can’t fucking follow up on it.”

“Because of the situation.”

“Because of the fucking situation,” Dean agrees, barely keeping himself from punching the wheel of the car. For a moment he entertains the idea of spilling everything, just so that it’s out of his chest, but he can’t afford to jeopardize what little equilibrium they reached right now. But he knows that he’s being a fucking hypocrite right now, and the nagging voice telling him _you did something wrong_ won’t leave him alone.

Then he hears Cas take a deep breath.

“Dean. This… quite worries me.”

“I know, I’m not –”

“It’s not about you not following through with your promises. It’s that you’re reminding me of… well, myself. When I was lying to the both of you, back before I decided that going through with opening Purgatory was a great idea.”

 _Oh_. Well, fuck. Dean can see why even too fucking well.

“Now, I should hope that it’s nothing as dire. But – well. I didn’t tell you a thing, back then. You are doing… slightly better, I would say. I mean, at least you are telling me that you have _a situation_ on your hands. Nothing is telling me that I’m not about to regret what I’m about to say, but – I’m willing to… how do you say, take a rain check?”

“You’re willing to _what_?”

“You can prove to me that you really mean your speech after this… situation is over. I should hope that it’s nothing as dangerous as my previous situation, but – I can wait. Also, maybe I could benefit from some experience on my own.”

Dean can’t even argue with that – it’s only too good if Cas gets to experience things for himself without him or Sam meddling into it, especially when they’re fucking poor teachers, regardless of what Cas seemed to think. Except that –

“That’s good, though – I was kind of looking forward to it.”

“To what?”

“Introducing you to the good stuff. We never really could do that any of the other times, right? I mean, it’s nice that you’re getting the point of marathoning shit on tv with someone, but – I was hoping I’d be there for it, y’know.”

 _But I can’t ask you to come back_ , Dean doesn’t say, feeling like complete, utter shit. There’s something soft in the way Cas looks at him right now, though, and then –

“How long can you stay?” Cas asks a moment later.

“What? As long as I want, I guess. Sam was researching random shit at the house and there’s no case on the horizon. Why?”

“Get back into town.”

Dean drives without questioning, following Cas’s directions until they stop in front of a small grocery store.

“This is my day off,” Cas explains when he has parked. “And Nora – my boss – she set up some _thing_ with the television in my room. I think it can put television shows on queue or something like that.”

He doesn’t say anything else.

“And?”

Cas honest to fucking God rolls his eyes. “I’m asking you if you want to finish season three with me, since I am missing just the last episode. I understand you’re behind, but it’s fine. I can re-watch the others. If you want to buy appropriate food, the shop is open.”

 _Oh._ “Sure thing,” Dean answers, feeling like there’s a knot in his throat prohibiting him to speak properly. Cas tells him to go up the fire escape and knock on the door on the first floor before getting off the car. Dean goes straight to the nearby supermarket – he isn’t sure that he can face Cas’s boss without it being ridiculously awkward. He buys too much junk food for two people, then he goes up on the fire escape and knocks. Cas opens and lets him into a small apartment. Calling it apartment is a stretch, to be quite honest – it’s one single room with a bed, a small desk and a television on one side and a kitchenette on the other. There’s another door presumably leading into a bathroom, a wardrobe, another few pieces of furniture and that’s it. There’s also not much in the way of personal belongings, of course, and Dean is aching to say _just come back, you can pick your own room_ , but he says nothing, still feeling like a poor excuse for a human being. The consequences of choosing his brother’s wellbeing over anything else have never felt this horrible, not even when he fucking sold his soul.

“So, which was the last one you’ve seen?” Cas asks then.

“Uh. Four.”

“I was hoping it was past seven,” Cas sighs, but he makes space for Dean on the bed – at least it’s big enough for the two of them, though barely.

Three hours later, Dean knows what problem Cas had with episode seven – he’s pretty sure that it’s some of the most objectively disgusting television that he’s seen in his entire life, nevermind that the disgusting shit happens to a guy Cas sort of maybe identifies with – shit, what luck. He carefully does not think about that time Cas got yanked out of Jimmy and possibly went through brainwashing 101 in bible camp.

Christ, he hadn’t remembered about that until now. The comparison seems even too apt.

“You know, I don’t really need to see that. We can go forward.”

“It’s just this one scene. And it’s fine, from what I understood it might be important later.”

“Ew. I suppose this isn’t in the book, or Sam wouldn’t be all high and mighty.”

Cas snorts and – well, until Robb gets slain at his uncle’s wedding, it’s actually quite nice. They comment over pretty much the entire thing, and he’s kind of relieved that Cas doesn’t really care about Daenerys either way – Dean doesn’t either. If he has to go gung ho about the women in here he’ll probably go for Brienne – girl is fucking badass. Cas has apparently a thing for Sansa, not that Dean has figured that one out but he’ll have time to think about it.

The wedding passes by in fifteen minutes of complete silence.

Dean doesn’t even know that he’s gone and grabbed Cas’s hand until the screen cuts to black – shit, he sort of knew it was going to happen but he hadn’t thought it would be that bad.

Not that Cas isn’t gripping back. Because he is. They turn towards each other as the titles run over the black screen, and Dean lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

“That was fucking brutal.”

“I cannot disagree. The first time was… quite distressing.”

 _No shit_ , Dean thinks.

“Do – do we finish?”

“We have gone this far,” Cas agrees, and he goes on to the finale.

Dean pauses it halfway through though – Cas has gone still as stone the moment Theon showed up, with good fucking reason Dean thinks. Christ, he really did go and pick the unluckiest fictional character ever – not that wolf heads sewn on someone’s body are much better.

“Well, shit,” Dean says out loud without thinking. “We really picked the most interesting ones, didn’t we? In comparison to _them_ , even our lives look fucking awesome. Like, unicorns shitting rainbows awesome.”

They turn to look at each other in the exact same moment and Dean can see Cas’s lips twitching upwards before he bursts out laughing, and – well, fuck it, it’s kind of contagious, and Dean laughs along because he really can’t not, and fuck, he hadn’t ever thought that someone could have lives even more fucked up than his own but it looks like there’s never a limit to the depths of how bad can people have it.

“I can’t argue with that,” Cas says a moment later before bursting out in laughter again, and they’re wiping tears from their cheeks when they’re finally winding down from the high.

“I mean, shit, we’re both alive and not missing pieces for now. That’s something, ain’t it?”

“Surely it puts things in perspective,” Cas agrees, sounding completely out of breath.

“We – god, we’re not going to end up like that. We’re just fucking not.”

“Dean, I think that if we haven’t by now, it’s not very likely, is it? I mean, didn’t we go through the whole betrayal and dying dance already?”

Good point, Dean thinks.

“Well, next time I need to cheer myself up, I can think that at least I didn’t end up backstabbed in front of my mother.”

“So it means that I can think that at least all my functioning limbs are in their correct place? I will admit that it does work, if we’re speaking in absolutes.”

“I can’t believe this is my life,” Dean snorts.

“At least you’re not the one getting tortured.”

“Right, you win this particular pissing contest,” Dean admits, and then he presses play and they finish the stupid fucking show. Neither of them eats the popcorns left.

\--

“Shit, if anything you can’t say this stupid show isn’t intense,” Dean says as the credits roll.

“That it is,” Cas agrees, going to grab a trash bag and putting all the empty junk food containers into it. “Next time I will try to pick less emotionally distressing favorites, though.”

Dean shudders in sympathy – hey, in comparison he picked someone with a lot less fucked up story. Which is saying everything.

It’s also late evening.

“Right. If – if you have to work tomorrow I should probably get going, but – tell me I can call you.”

“After the afternoon we just had I would feel personally offended if you didn’t, Dean. And – you don’t have to tell me what it is, but if it might go wrong the way my plan went wrong back then, tell me.”

“I will,” Dean answers quietly, and he’s not lying. He doesn’t think it would be worth it. And he doesn’t want it to go wrong, not when he’s already walking on very, very thin ground here, and when he feels like shit for having to keep Cas away. Maybe Sam’s plan will work, and the guy along for the ride won’t have to complain. Right? Because if he does –

Dean isn’t going to let himself think that he might have done the equivalent of sealing a deal with Roose Bolton. He needs to stop thinking in terms of this stupid show.

He stands up and reaches for the door – Cas is standing right behind him.

“You know,” Dean says a moment later, “I talked to a friend who’s caught up on the rest. I mean, the book.”

“Are you about to say something emotionally distressing?”

“Maybe. It’s just – apparently your favorite guy is still alive as far as it was published. And – er. From what she says, he wishes he had died at that massacre we watched before. You know. With Robb. And – dude, I realize that we don’t need any more parallels, but how many times did you die for me already?”

“Two,” Cas answers. “I don’t think the third one counts as _dying for you_ , but it doesn’t change that –”

“Yeah, about that. Let’s – uh, let’s just try to avoid any of that from now on, okay?” Dean doesn’t want to think about the _fourth_ time Cas died, for that matter. “I’d – I’d really like it if no one between us died at all. Regardless of the reasons.”

“I’d do it again, though. Well. Not the third one, though.”

Yeah, the one that wasn’t strictly _for him_. Dean feels completely inadequate. Really fucking completely inadequate. _When this is over I’m going to follow through with everything_ , he swears to himself.

“I’m flattered, but – don’t. Really. I like you better alive.”

The corner of Cas’s mouth twitches upwards, and damn but he should smile more often. _A lot_ more often. Dean stands just outside the door now, and he knows he should leave, but he’s loath to.

“Maybe we can watch something else one of these days?”

“I don’t have much to do on my day off.” Good. That wasn’t a refusal.

“I’ll call you then. And – if – when that situation gets solved, there’s a room with your name waiting for you, all right?”

“All right,” Cas answers, still smiling almost fondly, and Dean gives him a curt nod before running down the stairs – either he leaves now or it’s just going to get harder.

He’s on the streetwalk and taking his car keys out of his pockets when he hears Cas’s voice coming from behind him.

“Dean!”

He turns to look at the fire escape – no one’s there, but Cas is leaning out his only window, which is right over the place where he parked his car.

“Yeah?”

Cas’s cheeks are slightly flushed, as if he’s about to do something he finds highly embarrassing, but then his mouth sets in a line that says _fuck sensible, I’m just going to get this over with_. And then he opens his mouth again.

“Am I your brother, now and always?”

And – right, fuck it. Dean can feel his mouth breaking into a grin, and he wants to laugh all over again, and he doesn’t think he’s smiled this wide in months.

“Of course you’re my brother now and always, you fucking dork,” Dean shouts back at him. “And don’t you dare think that you can call me _your grace_ when you want to make fun of me.”

“I would never call you like that to make fun of you. _Your Grace_.”

Cas looks this close to crack up as he says it, or as close to do that as Dean ever saw him, and then he raises a hand, waves at him and closes the window.

In spite of everything, Dean smiles to himself all the way to the bunker. He vows to himself that they’ll just stay put for now and he’ll avoid asking for anyone else to be fucking brought to life if only so that he doesn’t have to set back the moment the angel inside his brother can vacate the premises and he can tell Cas to come over for good. Nothing too bad in letting himself hope that for once things won’t turn out to be a clusterfuck, right?

Maybe being drunk when watching season two was in fact the best idea he ever had. And sure as fuck this now and always thing, cheesy as it is, doesn’t sound too bad at all.

End.


End file.
